


Home is Whenever I'm With You

by sourirs (sourirpourmoi)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Office, M/M, OFC - Freeform, derek is a lawyer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:42:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1384594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourirpourmoi/pseuds/sourirs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Penis!”</p><p>Was probably not the most appropriate thing to scream as he walked into his boss’s office at seven am in the morning as he was getting changed into his suit.</p><p>Neither was standing there. In said office. Staring at said penis.</p><p>With his mouth dropped open.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home is Whenever I'm With You

“Penis!”

Was probably not the most appropriate thing to scream as he walked into his boss’s office at seven am in the morning as he was getting changed into his suit.

Neither was standing there. In said office. Staring at said penis.

With his mouth dropped open.

Who does that? Who strips naked in their work place and then leaves their door unlocked?!

~~Derek Hale, owner of the building, and the offices, and the door.~~

Derek quickly pulled up his boxers and suits pants and raised an eyebrow, the picture of confidence and grace. Like his intern hadn’t just witnessed him getting changed.

“Yes, I am aware I have a penis, thank you, Mr Stilinski.” Derek murmured, buttoning up his shirt without even a blush. Stiles still just stood there. Staring. “Is there something you wanted?”

“Uh-“ Stiles managed, frowning and gesturing to the office in an attempt to get anything across. He just saw his boss naked.

_He just saw his boss naked._

Sure, he had imagined it plenty. Imagined twisting Derek’s tie around his hand, tugging the werewolf in for a scorching hot kiss that Stiles was most definitely a seasoned pro at. His dream, his rules.

He had sighed wistfully when Derek walked past their cubicles, his tight grey pants stretched across one hell of an ass.  Derek Hale was the finest specimen he had ever seen. And it wasn’t just because he was Werewolf, Stiles had some pretty fugly werewolves on his speed dial, namely Scott.

No, it was more to do with his intense eyes, the bunny teeth that show whenever he really grinned, the way his workplace was equally human and werewolf despite the speciest allegations made against him, how he hadn’t even shown his little sister favouritism, forcing Cora to join from the very bottom like the rest of them.

But that wasn’t something he wanted to think about. It was easier when Stiles pretended he wasn’t head over heels in love with the man and didn’t want to kiss his forehead just as much as his lips.

“I have the reformed contract for the Phillips case,” Stiles choked out, shoving the papers in front of him as a shield to his bright red cheeks. He stared firmly at the ground and tried to breathe around the obnoxious hammering of his ecstatic heart.

Derek didn’t take the contract from him. Derek didn’t say anything.

Cautiously, Stiles lifted his gaze, settling them safely on Derek’s neatly done tie. Which wasn’t safe at all because Derek swallowed and Stiles followed the movement down the man’s neck with hungry eyes.

Oh dear god.

“Stiles,” Derek said quietly, jolting Stiles out of yet another day dream and into the present. He snapped his eyes up and finally locked them with his boss’s. Derek was his boss.

“Yeah? I mean, yes. Sir. Mr Hale.” He was stuttering like he was fifteen years old and trailing after Lydia Martin’s strawberry blonde sparkles.

Derek walked around him, keeping eye contact as he gently closed the door.

The air felt a thousand times thicker. Quiet. Thrumming.

“Stiles,” Derek repeated, stalking closer to him.

Stiles breath started getting shorter, eyes flitting to the man’s lips and the closed office door.

“Yes, Derek?” He muttered, sounding a lot bolder, more confident than he actually was.

“You know Werewolves have heightened strength right?” Stiles had to take a step back. And another. And another. Until Derek had his ass hitting the thick wood desk that had not been a permanent feature in his wildest dreams, thank you very much.

“And-” Derek was so close his words washed over Stiles’ lips, sending tingles through his body. “We have heightened senses. Smell. Eyesight.Hearing” Oh god. Oh god. Oh holy god.

Stiles looked up to his eyes, his lust blown and heavy lidded eyes.

“So when I do something like this,” Derek murmured, pressing his lips to Stiles’ cheek, his stubble scratching deliciously against his skin and making his eyes  _flutter_ shut. His heart rate rocketed.

Derek smirked.

“I thought so.”

Stiles let out a groan of frustration and his hands flew to Derek’s hair, sliding in and tugging as he crashed their lips together.

“I’ve been smelling your arousal for fucking months, Stiles,” Derek practically growled against his lips, his hands sliding down Stiles body to link under his ass and lift him up on the desk.

Stiles almost swooned.

“Why didn’t you-” Stiles broke off in a moan as Derek mouth down his jaw, sucking on his neck . “Why didn’t you do anything?” Every part of contact between them was sending harsh shocks of arousal through his body, spiking in his abdomen and making him pant.

“Wasn’t sure. That Daehler kid kept hitting on you.” Derek’s tone was dripping with barely controlled anger and Stiles shivered at the implication. Derek honestly wanted him.

He shoved down Stiles’ suit jacket with firm, quick hands. Stiles couldn’t keep his hands off him, wrapping his tie around his hand and tugging Derek down to kiss him. He let out a laugh against Derek’s lips, causing him to pull back and stare at him like he was insane.

“Private joke,” he mumbled, flushing with embarrassment. Derek just grinned. Showing those beautiful bunny teeth. Stiles’ heart seized in his chest.

“You’re so weird,” Derek breathed, attacking the buttons on Stiles’ shirt with an eagerness that made Stiles beam with pride. Derek wanted him just as much as he wanted Derek. “And I really love it.”

Stiles’ hands flew to Derek’s belt, managing to slip it off after his seventh try and zipping down his pants. He had to move his hands for Derek to strip him of his shirt but as soon as they were free (and he was barechested) he yanked down Derek’s pants.

“You’re my boss,” Stiles mumbled, brain to mouth filter  _fried_  in the face of Derek’s debauched state. His hair was mussed from Stiles’ fingers, his tie undone around his neck. A few buttons were open, showing the tan skin that Stiles needed to lick immediately and his trousers were pooled around his ankles.

“I’m your boss,” Derek clarified, kissing back up to his lips and nibbling gently enough to steal Stiles’ breath. Derek pulled back to toe off his shoes and kick away his trousers and once Stiles finally stopped oggling him he pulled off his own offending items of clothing with fumbling fingers.   

Derek stood before him in only his boxers, his cock straining against the grey material and Stiles could barely believe this was for him. “And I honestly don’t care anymore.”

When Derek moved to kiss him again it was an achingly gentle act. He coaxed Stiles’ lips apart with his tongue, his hands settling on his waist and sliding one down his thigh to hitch Stiles’ legs up around his hip.

“Oh god, Derek,” Stiles moaned. He dug his fingers into Derek’s shoulders, leaving white crescent marks.

“I know,” he replied, a hand sliding underneath Stiles’ boxers to grip his ass firmly. Stiles jerked forward, rubbing their crotches together to release almost painful groans from the both of them. “Fuck, Stiles,” Derek panted, mouthing at his collar bone. Stiles ran his hands over Derek’s back, scratching with blunt nails.

"I thought I was insane," Stiles gasped out, tilting his head back. "I thought I was making up the looks you gave me." Derek released an animalistic sound, his chest vibrating under Stiles’ touch.

"You’re the most  _oblivious_  Ivy League graduate I have ever hired.” he muttered, pecking, _pecking_ , Stiles’ lips softly. “Laura was sick of me moping so we came up with the plan.”

Stiles stilled and pulled an incredulous look on him, “Plan?!”

"Stiles, please! I’ll tell you everything after I fuck your brains out over this fucking desk.." Stiles mouth snapped shut and he groaned when his dick gave a twitch.

"Now. Please, Derek. Before the rest come in." he begged.

The rest were already here. He knew that. Derek knew that. But somehow he just didn’t care. “Fuck me, now, Mr Hale.” Stiles whispered, leaning up to bite Derek’s ear lobe and mouth at his neck.

Derek smirked, a confident, gorgeous tug of his lips and kissed Stiles filthily.

 


End file.
